


Summer Heat

by orphan_account



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, also its so hot here i'm melting, just our favorite gears finally getting their hands in the proverbal cookie jar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after GoW3; established relationship<br/>one shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Heat

Baird drags him into the motel room and pulls Marcus to press him against the door, mutters, “Fuck me. Right now.” Against the side of his neck and bites down.  
Baird hums when he fucks three slick fingers in and out of him; shirt on, no pants, breathing loudly, mouth wide open. It’s a sound so thick he could taste it; deep, low hums in time with the work of Marcus’s fingers, and when Marcus pulls his fingers out and pushes Baird’ back against the door, hitches his legs around his waist, replaces his fingers with his dick in one slow push, watching the way Baird’ eyelids flicker and his mouth drops open.  
Cole is across the hall, there are other gears in the motel, it’s not even eight in the evening; but Baird, as ever, pays it no mind. This endless chatter is what he does; starts off humming, starts off breathing in, fast and deep, then groaning out, hands tightening against Marcus’s shoulder, in his hair.  
Marcus knows what this feels like, hot press inside him, the way it feels when Baird’ thighs align with his – but he doesn’t do this, doesn’t scream like Baird does, doesn’t talk as much.  
Baird is even bossy in bed like this; even bossy when he begs. He says “Please, Marcus, like that! Please,” when Marcus presses him harder against the door, picks up the pace. Marcus buries his face in his chest, holding him by the hips – has given up at this point, trying to shush him. Baird yells when he hits the right angle, pushes down as best he can on Marcus’s dick, pulls on his handful of Marcus’s hair and laughs wildly when Marcus’s groan is muffled against his chest.  
The backs of his knees sweat; Baird smells like heat, like sweat and sex before they’re even done, and his skin is slick where his legs are wrapped around Marcus. He reaches out blindly when he’s close and slams his hand against the door, yelling Marcus’s name over and over with every thrust, louder and louder – and if Cole and every other person in the world didn’t know by now that they were fucking, he sure as hell does now. He curses in other languages; his thighs tighten, vice like, around Marcus’s hips, and Marcus is only keeping up with him now, staring at him and trying not to come just from the noise Baird makes – the way his breath cuts off, the way he sounds like he’s overwhelmed and rapturous, gasping and yelling and saying “that’s good, that’s so good, Marcus, Marcus,” like that’s something people do.  
Marcus comes before he does, with his customary grunt; with a strangled sob into his shirt, which is already wet with saliva. Baird’ voice rumbles when he does, groaning, and Marcus stays inside him as Baird takes hold of himself desperately, words gone, saying “Oh, oh,” over and over until he comes on his fingers, on the front of his shirt, on Marcus.  
He is a pliant heap, still breathing hard, when he finally comes down; he keeps his legs around Marcus’s waist, shifts so Marcus slips out of him, and laughs when Marcus’s legs finally give out and the two of them tumble to the floor in an indelicate heap.  
He doesn’t ever say anything after – then Marcus is full of stupid words, kissing his forehead, whispering “Damon…” grinning…  
They’ve fallen asleep this way before; curled together on a thin motel carpet, their clothes long-discarded, until Cole comes in the morning to throw his fist against the door and yell about getting no fucking sleep, again.


End file.
